Aliens: Trifecta
by DuskStarDragon
Summary: It all begins again. The remaining crew of The Betty must once again come together to prevent the spread of the alien killing machines known as Xenomorphs. Some must face these horrid creatures. Others must face what they have done. One must come face to face with what they are. Takes place five years after the events of Aliens: Ressurection.
1. Prologue

_Prologue _

I would first of all like to thank all of those who have been with me since the beginning of this story. You have been more than patient with me and I appreciate it. I really can't express my feelings of gratitude. As an amateur author, I sometimes can't handle things or work out my issues in a timely manner. Thank goodness I don't do this for a profession… though I do desire to publish one day… like that will ever happen.

As for why I decided to start over, I explained a little bit in my Author Notes, but probably not enough. I have a bad habit of leaving a story for a little bit and then rediscovering it later. I go back and reread it to see where I left off and find that it's not what I wanted to write originally. I know that I can do better and provide a better reading experience for my readers. I have had nothing but positive reviews for the previous version of this story, but I still felt that it was going nowhere and couldn't continue on with it. It was starting to wrap around itself and choke the life out of the original plot I had started. I felt it was best to start fresh. It pains me to see when a story loses itself. I only have myself to blame though.

I just want to say I'm sorry and understand if people don't give me a second chance, but I want write this story the way it deserves to be written. I want to write story that you guys will love and find entertainment in. I want to produce something that I can be proud of. I want something that can lead into something much bigger. I'm not asking for perfection. I'm asking myself to commit to my ideas. I'm asking myself to commit to my loyal readers that have been there with their support and kind words. I'm asking for a second chance and hope that you will give it to me. Thank you.

Sincerely,

DuskStarDragon


	2. Prelude Part One

**Prelude:**

**Part One**

"All most there," she tried to catch her breath.

It's not like she needed to breathe. It was just something that was a habit. It was… part of her programming. Anyone that would have seen her would have thought she was nervous and scared. She was trying not to look suspicious; she had a job to do. She could only assume that this feeling, what she was programmed to feel, was what any real person would feel if they were doing the same thing. Her hands were steady and worked without flaw. That's what separated her from her exterior appearance. She had to be flawless. She had a mission to fulfill.

"Annalee… you almost done?" a voice whispered quietly in her ear.

"Yeah Vriess… almost got it," she whispered back into the communicator.

"Well hurry up girl. There's not much time," he sounded more nervous than what she felt, "That program you got can only keep them busy for so long."

"I know, I know," Call gritted her teeth, "but the security is tighter than I thought."

"Hey you there!" a stern voice called out behind her.

"Talk to you later," she quickly ended the conversation as she pulled the wire out of her arm.

"HEY! Stop there!" the voice yelled after her.

"Sorry," she smiled and turned, "I have to go to another…"

"I said stop," the security officer roughly grabbed her by the arm.

"Sorry Sir," she lowered her eyes.

"Damn techies," the officer cursed under his breath, "Identification Badge," he ordered.

"Yes Sir," she fumbled through her vest, just letting a hint of her bare chest show.

The officer's eyebrow rose nearly off his face in delight at her small peep show. His eyes started to wander up and down her slim figure. He was like most of the military officers on board. She had only been there for a few days, but she could see it in all their eyes… their hungry eyes. They were always sneaking peeks and turning their heads to catch a glimpse of the few women that worked aboard the military ship. She knew that is just the way these kinds of men were. So many times she had to shy away from such burning stares. Unfortunately it was working to her advantage at the moment.

"I'm sorry… still getting use to this kind of life," she pulled out the id badge slowly.

"No problem," the officer was sad to see her pale skin disappear, "Hmm…," he started to look the badge over.

_Please buy it_, she prayed inside her head.

"Alright Miss Apple Jordan… Apple?" he crooked his head.

_I'm going to smack Vriess for that,_ she sighed, "My mother said I looked like a little apple when I was born."

"Cute," he smiled as he handed the badge back to her, "So… we don't get a lot of civilians on board… you staying long?" he leaned up against the wall.

"Just helping out… the Military just need us civilians to get things up and running," she falsely smiled.

He chuckled, "So I take you'll be gone by the end of the week then?"

"Yeah," she really needed to get out of there and on with her self appointed mission.

"Maybe we could meet up later… maybe my quarters?" he leaned in.

"I don't know…" she shied away.

"All Security Officers, please report to Docking Bay 3 for inspection. All Security Officer to Docking Bay 3," a masculine voice came over the PA.

"Damnit FA-TH-UR," the officer cursed.

"Looks like we'll have to do a rain check," Call was all too happy to hear the monotone voice of FA-TH-UR.

"See you later," he gave her a wink as he turned.

He turned once more and gave her a little wave. She shyly waved back. As soon as the officer was gone, she released a heavy sigh. Another close one… one too many… one more… that may be it…

"I was about to come over there and blow that mother…" Vriess started to rant.

"Vriess… calm down," Call sighed once more, "He's gone and it sounds like most if not all the security will be occupied for a little bit."

"How much more do you have to do?" Vriess questioned.

Call opened the security panel, "I just have one more level of security to get through, and then I should be able to get what we're looking for."

Vriess paused, "I really hope you don't find it… I hope that this is just…"

"I know," Call understood, "I really hope that they don't have more of those things…," she winced at painful memories.

It had been nearly five years since she last encountered them. But the horrors she and the others endured were still very fresh in her mind. Their anorexic ridged bodies curling around pipes and corners, just waiting for their victims to pass by. The glints of silvery teeth just before the victims give their last screaming breaths. They had no remorse as their dagger like claws tearing into weak, delicate flesh.

She shuttered.

There was no time to think of such things. She wasn't even sure if that was what they were dealing with. Rumors in the ports, gargled coded messages, and just an overall feeling that it wasn't over. She couldn't say that she had a feeling or it was instinct, but there was something just not right. She liked to believe it was over five years ago and no more of those creatures existed, but something told her that it would never be over. They were never truly gone. The military would never let them fade. They were too valuable to let go.

"Vriess," she suddenly found a found a file, "I think might be what we're looking for."

"Can you transmit it directly?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"No," she looked around, "I think they'll detect that. I'm just going to download it directly and any file associated with it. It's going to take about five to ten minutes though."

Vriess sighed with worry, "You've got the time for that?"

"I hope so," she felt the same.

Closing her eyes, she began to pull, copy and download the files to her memory banks. They were big files and some of them were heavily coded. She wasn't worried about that though. She was more concerned about getting out of there. They had gone over the plan hundreds of times. Vriess would set off the final stage of the viral program she got. The life support would go out and force an evacuation of all personal on board. She would position herself at a part of the ship where she could slip on to an escape pod with no one getting on board with her. That was plan anyway. There was no way to say if everything would go according to plan. Plans are for the prepared.

"Come on, come on," she gritted her teeth as she kept moving files.

She never liked going into computers… though she was one. It was cold. There was no feeling. It was artificial. There was everything and yet nothing. She could touch, but not feel. That's when she truly felt her artificiality. That's when she was reminded of her plastic skin. That's when she thought of the circuits and wires that filled her constructed body. That's when she wondered if her life truly meant something.

"You doing alright Annalee?" Vriess brought her back to reality.

"Yeah… just one more file that's attached to the main one," she was more than happy to get out of cyberspace.

She downloaded the last of the files and pulled the wire from her arm. That part was over and now she needed to go on to the next.

"Vriess, I'm heading to the escape pod now. Start the viral attack," she calmly walked down the narrow hallway.

"On it," he seemed relieved.

The lights above suddenly turned red. An alarm sounded. White lights located just above the floor started to show the way to safety. It was a warning to the crew that something wasn't right. Though it was a fake emergency, she still felt an uneasiness growing in her body.

"All personal, please proceed in a calm manner the nearest escape pod for emergency evacuation," FU-TH-ER came over the speakers.

_So far, so good_, she was happy with the way things were going.

Just up ahead there was a large opening with a ladder leading down to a spherical pod. All she had to was climb down the ladder and fire the pod into space. Then she had to hack the navigation system and program it to go to the pickup sight. Vriess would come in and retrieve her from there. It was simple. It seemed to be working.

The people on board would be safe. The emergency was just a glitch in the system. The life support was fine and there was no threat of anyone dying. That is the way she wanted it. There was already too much bloodshed in the universe. She wanted no part. She wanted the nightmare of those monsters not to spread. She wanted to come to the end… of her program.

She started to climb down the ladder when she heard someone calling out to her. It was the security officer from before. She cursed to herself as she skipped the last few rungs. Pulling the panel open she activated the hatch to close and lock.

"Hey! Hey! Open up," the officer banged on the metal door.

She had to play it up, "The hatch is locked!" she yelled up to him, "I can't get it open! I think something is wrong with it!" she tried to look like she was trying to get it open.

"Please clear the launch pad," FA-TH-UR's composed voice announced, "Pod is ready for launch."

"Get back or you'll be sucked into space!" she warned him.

"Don't worry!" he called down to her, "We'll make sure that you're picked up in no time!" he disappeared from view.

_Thank goodness_, she was relieved that he got away just in time.

The pod detached and was released into space. She strapped herself in after she reprogrammed the pod's navigation. For once everything was going according to plan. So often plans were meaningless and had no purpose. She learned very quickly that you have to think on your feet, but that was difficult for her.

"You got everything?" Vriess voice echoed in her ears.

She smiled, "Yeah… but I'm not sure if we really want to look into it."

"Ha," he laughed, "It ain't exactly an easy life we chose."

"I chose," she felt building inside of her, "for you... She learned very quickly that you have to think on your feet, but that was difficult for her.

"You got everything?" Vriess voice echoed in her ears.

She smiled, "Yeah… but I'm not sure if we really want to look into it."

"Ha," he laughed, "It ain't exactly an easy life we chose."

"I chose," she felt guilt building up inside of her, "for you. You can just drop me off at the next port and I can go on from…"

Vriess growled, "Don't start with that again. We've gone over this. I'm not abandoning you… not after all we've been through… we're both wanted and we both decided that we would stick this through. Just do me the favor and let me help you."

She smiled, "Thank you Vriess… thank you for everything. I'll see you in half an hour."

"See you then Annalee," he answered back.

She closed her eyes to let her mind wonder. She was curious to see what the files contained. She could have started to decode them while she traveled to the rendezvous point. However, she knew there would be time for that when she got back on _The Betty_. Instead, she thought of all that had happen over the last five years. The close calls. The moving from port to port, colony to colony; there was no stopping when you were wanted by the United Systems Military. There was barely time to think. She had some time now though.

Her mind thought of all the faces that had come and gone in the past five years. She stopped at one. It was Johner. They hadn't heard from him in nearly three years. He stuck around for the first few years and seemed like he would stay. But if there was no money to be made, there was point in him sticking around. His departure… there seemed to be more than just the issue of money. She thought he just seemed too tired to carry on. The last time they saw him, he disappeared into a crowd port on Earth. He said that he would be fine. He just smiled and turned. No sad goodbyes. No tears were shed. He wasn't that kind of person and either was Vriess. She hoped that he was okay and that the military hadn't found him… his wanted poster was still up anyway.

She tore her mind away from the uncouth mercenary.

There was one other person she always kept in the front of her mind, Ripley. It's strange to think of the bond that formed between the two in such a short time. She was a machine that felt like she should be human and Ripley was human clone that wasn't sure what she was. They were similar in that fact; either truly understood their part in the universe. They just knew that they were supposed to be doing something. Ripley didn't stay long after they landed on Earth. She only stayed until she was sure that the others were okay. She just disappeared one night. She left without a word or note. The Ripley clone was never comfortable around people. They weren't like her… they could never nor should they ever understand what she was. She was her own kind… the only one of her kind.

"Or so I hope…," Call thought once again about the files she had risked her life to obtain, "I really hope that she is one of a kind…"


	3. Prelude Part Two

**Prelude**

**Part Two**

Life was shit. There's nothing but shit. Wake up in the morning to the shrill screams of some whore demanding payment from her client. Shit morning already. By noon, the old fogies would gather in the bar and ramble on about the good old days. Shit he didn't want to listen to. Shit afternoon. That evening the crowd would grow drunk and rowdy. The fights would start and most of the time he had to get involved and have to finish them. Shit fights that he didn't even start that would ruin his drinks. Shit evening. Every day was a shit day for him. Then again, his entire life seemed to be like that.

Shit just didn't happen; it always seemed to happen.

His childhood was shit. His teen years were nothing but shit… but some good ass in there too. His adult life was no better. Parts he refused to remember. There were just some things best left forgotten. Certain jobs, particular nights… especially some people… they could all be forgotten. The best way to forget things was at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey.

He motioned the bartender for more as he set his empty glass down on the bar.

The bartender grabbed the cheapest bottle of whiskey and poured him another shot. He couldn't say how many he had that night. Not enough to pass out, but enough to make his mind go a little numb. That's all he wanted, to not feel anything for awhile. His life was going nowhere fast. He was stuck in a shithole of a port. His money was dwindling to nothing. He couldn't get a decent job, not without being noticed by the wrong kind of people. That fact only contributed to his already shit life. He always had to be looking over his shoulder. He had done it so many times he was starting to get a crick in his neck.

He shifted and twisted his head back and forth until his neck popped.

It felt a little better, but he was still so stiff. His whole body hurt. There wasn't a day that went by that he was involved in a fight. Either it was because some drunkards started a brawl or some bounty hunter recognized him. He was use to fighting. That's what he liked to do. That's why he chose the path he did in life. He didn't have to think too hard, just make sure that his fists hit harder. He didn't have to say too much; his guns did all the talking for him. It wasn't the easier way to make a living, but he enjoyed himself. With the way things were going, he was probably better off getting an honest job.

He laughed to himself.

There was no honest job that he could get or want. He was in too deep… deep in shit. He had been in trouble most of his life, but nothing like this. There were ports and colonies that he shouldn't show his face in. That didn't stop him though. A few words and a couple of well aimed shots usually cleared up any "misunderstandings" that might have occurred. Everything would be fine then. Not this time though. There was no place safe now. His pretty mug was in every port he had been in. The back alleys and outlaw hangouts were his home now.

At least he was familiar with such dark, dirty places.

He looked down at the half full whiskey glass. He couldn't even really taste it anymore. Though, that was cheap, weak ass whiskey for you. That's all he could afford. It did the job. It would do for what he needed. He just needed to forget his troubles for a night, sleep it off and wait until morning to do it over again. That's the way his days had been going for the last three years… ever since he parted ways from…

He gritted his teeth and clinched his fist.

They were the last people he wanted to think of. It was their fault that he was in such deep shit. It was their fault that he couldn't get a decent job. They were the reason he couldn't show his face in a place without twenty guys jumping him. They were the ones on a good will mission. His was the only good will he cared about. They asked him to stay. They said they needed him. They didn't have the means to keep him there. He wasn't in this life to get good karma. That was for people that had a heavy conscious. Not to say that he didn't bare a load himself, but his back was already tired; killing some crazy ass aliens wasn't going to lighten it. It would have gotten him killed.

He knew he wasn't getting any younger… just older… just more pain… every single day.

What could he possibly do now days? Nobody wanted some washed up mercenary. His glory days were over and he was having a hard time admitting it. Maybe it was the whiskey thinking for him, but he was starting to see things clearly for the first time. There was no place for him in this universe. His back ached. His hands shook. His knees cracked. Every single bone in his body felt like they would break if he tried to get off that stool. Was that his fate? To spend the rest of his days in some musty old bar, sitting on a stool with barely any cushion left, drinking weak ass whiskey and wondering when it was going to be his last.

_At least there's some good ass in here,_ he smiled as a bar girl passed by.

She just snorted and went back to her better paying… better looking customers. That's the way it's been lately. The girls wouldn't even give him a second look. He used to be able to get any bar girl into his room for a night they wouldn't forget. Now he was alone at night in a bed that creaked with every movement. He now had to watch the clock… alone. It was amazing how slowly the night went by. He didn't sleep. What point was there sleeping when there was nothing good to wake up to? Nobody by his side. No job waiting for him to take. No crew coming to bug him about getting up. What was the point in doing what he was doing?

"Hey barkeep!" a rugged young mercenary entered the bar, "A round of drinks on me! I've got one hell of a payday coming to me," he sat down next to Johner.

This annoyed him greatly.

There were always punks like this waking through the doors. They thought they were the shit. Everything was going their way and the money was flowing straight into their pockets. Of course, it also tended to flow out just as easily. They would come and slap down as many greenbacks as they could pull out at one time. They would buy rounds and get drunk until the sun came up the next day. Their minds would still be fuzzy by the time they went out again. That would be their undoing. The next thing that would heard about them would be how they died. That is if they were lucky. If they weren't they would soon face the reality of life. They would go through the same movements, same missions and same wounds. They would go through the same routine until they would end up as a drunk old mercenary sitting in a broken down bar drinking away the rest of his meaningless life… waiting for his time to come.

"Drink up old man," the young mercenary slapped Johner on the back, "It is a night to celebrate."

"I'm good with this," Johner drank the last his whiskey.

"Come on," the guy insisted, "Get this old timer a good stiff drink," he motioned to the bartender.

"I said I'm good," Johner started to get up.

"I insist," the mercenary grabbed his shoulder.

That's when he noticed them. Had he gotten so careless… so weary… that he didn't even notice the men that had placed themselves so close? There was about four of them that had gathered around. They were all young. It was probably their first big bounty. He could tell that they were excited and ready to go. They had to wait for their leader's order though. They wouldn't make a move unless he said to.

"What's the hurry old man?" the mercenary grinned.

Johner smiled as he sat back down on the stool, "I'm not in a hurry. Just enjoying a good drink amongst friends," he raised his glass towards the older bar patrons.

They didn't seem to mind the scene. They had seen it all before. Day after day they would see younger men… boys really… fight and drink and fight some more. It could have been over an unpaid debt. It could have been over a betrayal. It could have been over a girl. Whatever they would fight over, it was their own business and none of theirs, unless it ruined their drinking. They just raised their glasses and went back to their drinks and broken dreams.

"I can guess why you… gentlemen are here," Johner twisted the shot glass in his fingers, "I suppose it has to do with that nice little bounty the military has out on my head."

"It might have something to do with it," he smiled.

"I see," Johner shook his head.

"Let's just get one thing straight," he leaned in close, "You're just the pocket change. You and that Vriess are the lowest bounties out of the four. I figure if I find one, the others will soon follow. I've got my eyes on the big prize though," he leaned his back on the bar, "That Ripley woman and the synthetic are worth more than what I…," he looked to his men, "we could ever make in this lifetime or even ten. You," he really got in Johner's face, "are just the beginning."

"Or maybe," Johner looked to the bartender, "I'm your end."

It happened in a flash. The half emptied bottle of whiskey shattered into a thousand pieces as it broke over the mercenary's head. He was on the floor in a pool of whiskey and his own blood. Two of the other guys rushed at him, but he was ready. Taking the old stool that had serve well as a seat, he whipped it around and across their faces. They flew into a nearby table; overturning it on top of them. The last two hesitated. They had just seen three of them fall to simple blows from an old mercenary that was supposedly on his last set of legs.

"Maybe you two should get going before I really get mad," Johner warned them.

"Or maybe you should just go down like the dirty old man you are," the first held a gun to his head.

"I may be old," Johner smiled, "But I've been around for awhile and I plan as staying around for as long as I can."

The trigger was pulled, but it did not hit its intended target. The young mercenary stayed down this time. He would never get his chance to become top dog in this or any other port. His name would not be whispered in the back alleys by his quarries. Women would never swoon over him. He would never had so much money that he wouldn't know what to do with it. His dreams died as the light faded from his eyes.

"Ha," Johner couldn't help but laugh at himself, "The whiskey has really gone to my head," he rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Here I am getting all poetic about a guy that just tried to bring me in on a bounty that was obvious way too big for him to handle… should a started with something smaller," he kicked the dead man in the side, "What are you two looking at?" he growled at the two remaining men, "Get out of here," he was tired of looking at them.

Without a word, they picked up their fallen comrades, save for their dead leader, and walked shamefully out of the bar.

Looking around at his handy work, Johner was pleased.

"Not too bad for an old mercenary like me," he nodded with content, "Sorry about the mess," he shrugged his shoulders at the bartender.

"I've seen worse," he had to admit.

"How much… do I…," he patted his pockets.

The bartender waved his hand, "Don't worry about it. That's what insurance is for. Though, I would get out of here before security shows up."

Johner smiled, "Thanks. Here's for the whiskey," he dropped a few creds down.

He turned and walked out the doors. The sun had just disappeared behind the soulless metal building. Merchants were making their final calls for people to buy their merchandise. Citizens would pass by and pay no mind to them. Unsavory characters would move through these crowds and take what was hidden. Some would be caught, but most would get away with their ill gotten goods. Street urchins stood the by the way and begged for what they could. Whatever they could get could mean if they lived or died. Some would look at this scene and draw back in disgust. Johner… found it comforting. This was the way life was no matter where he went. It was just the way it was. It was meaningless. Much like how he felt.

Is that why he drowned himself in booze and brawls? To make sure that he wouldn't stop to think about how worthless he was? To make sure that he didn't see what was really around him? Was he just trying to make sure that he was numb to everything?

Whiskey was supposed to numb him to life, but now it seemed to heighten his senses. He didn't like that.

"I'm switching to scotch from now on," he headed to where he knew he would get some answers and some payback for all the shit he had to endure.


	4. Prelude Part Three

**Prelude**

**Part Three**

She was so close. She was breathing so hard. Her chest rose and fell with as if she was struggling to breath. Her eyes were wide. Her hands were shaking. Her lips were trembling. Her teeth clinched tightly. This woman… she was full of fear. She had seen so many things… so many horrific things. Everyone was dead. They were pulled away into the darkness, screaming and begging for their lives. She, like them, was afraid of what lurked in the dark. She, however, had resolved to live.

It was instinctual to want to survive. That is in the truest sense what it means to live, to survive. It is the goal of all living beings. The death one creature means the survival of another. Life is death and death is life… survival means both. This woman… she must die for the survival of another. Not just another, but for many others.

There is no sadness or joy in this kind of death. It is a necessity to life. There are no emotions attached to it. Though there was anticipation. There is a thrill. It is something that tinkles up and down the spine. There is a want to go, but there is a need to wait. When to strike was the most important thing. It was something that was an instinct, but it was something that was also learned. The strike must be swift. It must be perfect. Just a little off could been the difference between life and death. There was no choice. The strike must be perfect. It must land every time. It must take this woman.

The woman flinched. She twisted around in all sorts of directions. She knew death was coming, but from where she didn't know. Strange sounds started to come from her quivering mouth. It was something that she did to find strength… comfort… many had done this before. It never helped.

The moment had come. The woman hadn't noticed what lurked so close. It was her time to give her life so others may life. One life for many. One life… one death…

From the darkness, it slithered in unseen. From the twisted pipes, it pulled itself out. Quietly, it approached the one it desired. So close… the woman didn't know how close death was. She kept staring down the hallway where she thought it would come. She was mistaken.

A terrifying scream filled the air.

The woman was on her back. She struggled and tried to pull herself away. The weight was too much for her. She kept screaming. There was no point. it would not stop what was coming. This woman needed to die. She had taken so many, so many had screamed out as she killed them. They weren't afraid. They understood what they were in this world. There is only fear in death when it is no understood. This woman did not understand death. She only knew how to delivery it.

This death would mean life. This death was vital to survival. There are no emotions attached… this one… however… had vengeance.

With claws raised, death was rightfully coming to this woman that had taken so many. This woman… this woman…

_This woman… she… she… she is… ME!_

Ripley snapped up. A cold sweat ran down her brow and dripped onto the bed. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. It was her heart, wasn't it? Placing her hand over her heart, she made sure that it was the only thing that was trying to escape. The thumps and bumps subsided and changed into a rhythmic beating. There was still fear there, but at least her body was calm. She needed to get up. She needed to see who she was.

Trembling, she pulled away the blankets. The room was dark with only the glow of the clock to light the way. Pushing the rusted door open, she stumbled into bathroom. The light flickered on, but refused to light all the way. In the dim glow, she looked at herself in the cracked, tarnished mirror. Two brown eyes stared back at her. Tracing her black nails under her chin and moving it slowly over her face.

It was soft and bouncy as she pulled at her cheeks. She was awake or so she had to tell herself. So often she was awake, but was a sleep. Days fused with the nights and nights would not end. She would sleep for days on ends. She would stare wide awake and watch the sun rise and fall. How many times, she didn't count. Her sleep never came easy and to wake was a fight. She often questioned what was a dream and what was reality.

No… she was awake. What she had seen was a nightmare. It was one that plagued her often. So many nightmares filled her nights. They didn't bother her so much. There was no real emotion them. She was only feeling what was attached… to these memories. That's what they were. They were memories that were imprinted… no… forced on her. Sometimes she was predator; sometimes she was the prey.

She looked back into the mirror. Her appearance was that of a woman who had been dead for nearly two hundred years. She had seen files on the woman named Lt. Ellen Ripley. She was born on a colony and had only one child… a daughter.

"Amanda…," she whispered softly.

Ellen worked for the Company… the Weyland-Yutani Company. Her job was like any other until that fateful day. That's when her file started to go blank. Call had tried to retrieve all the files she could on Lt. Ellen Ripley, but the military had classified it. She was only able to get the basics. Ripley only had a few memories from those times. Whatever they had learned from her while the Queen grew inside.

She grabbed her chest. The scar was long gone, but the emptiness was still there. She felt hollow on the inside. If the Queen had stayed… if she had fully matured, she would have killed Ripley, but at least she would have been complete. The daughter of Lt. Ellen Ripley was not her daughter. The Queen was her true daughter.

Shaking her head, she looked back to the mirror. She always felt like this after certain dreams… when she was the predator. It was so deeply embedded in her. This loyalty and desire to see a Queen thrive belonged to another part of her. Death meant life… even if it meant her death.

Those two brown eyes in the mirror just staring back at her. They seemed to ask those deep questions that she wasn't ready to answer. They were there, she only had to go into dark corridors and terror filled hallways. She had to choose to look. For five years she turned away from those memories. She told herself that they weren't her's to look at. She was not the long dead woman. She was not the creature that stalked the hallways.

"Then what are you?" the image asked in the mirror.

Tink… tink… tink… shattered glass fell to the floor and in the sink.

Ripley withdrew her fist. The few pieces of glass that remained in her hand soon disappeared; burned away by her caustic blood. A few drops fell on to the steel basin. It started to bubble and sizzle until a drop shaped hole formed. It continued to boiled and burn through the floor. This was the nature that she had accepted. This was the way that she was.

She was acid. Everything she came into contact with burned away until it was nothing. She tried to live with people. She tried to stay with them, but it was useless to go against one's nature. Being around others, especially them, made her feel apprehensive. There was this feeling in the pit of her stomach that if she stayed, they would die.

She ran her fingers down her face as she slid to the floor. There was something there in her mind, towards the back that made her feel that way. She couldn't remember everything, but she knew that where ever she had been… whomever she tried to protect would not have long to live. There were a few faces that came to mind and a few names on the tip of her tongue. She wasn't sure if they were the right names to the face, but it didn't really matter. They were long dead. They weren't in pain anymore. They wouldn't have to worry about the dark hallways or what was around the next corridor. They were at peace.

Ripley wasn't.

She chose to live in the outlands on the war torn home world of humans… away from humans… way from life… She chose to ignore the accursed memories that they had gifted her.

"I am me and me alone," she whispered her growing mantra, "I am not her and she is not me."

_But you can never escape her,_ a voice in the back of her mind chided.

Ripley knew that she would never be able to escape what she was. She had tried to… but her body would not allow her. She wanted to ease the minds of those that she had come to know. She wanted to prevent others from abusing the gifts and curses that lay within her. She wanted to prevent more atrocities. In her heart, though, she knew that her death could never stop what had already begun.

She looked down to her wrists. There were no mars on her delicate white skin. It had been about five years since she tried to deny the most basic of instincts. The mind was willing, but her body wouldn't allow it… she wouldn't allow it. The survival of many depended on her death. This is what she had come to believe over her short life. Was it a truth that couldn't be denied? Was it something that could be changed? Was it something that needed to be changed? There wasn't much too…

The image of Call, Vriess and Johner suddenly came to her. It was of the last time that she had seen them all. It was the day that she left them. It was her decision too. She couldn't stay with them any longer. She tried, but she knew that would be difficult. She was a strong woman, but even the strongest grow weary. Rest is what she needed. The body was sturdy, but the mind was growing ragged. She felt burdened.

"Not by them though," she admitted out loud, "I burden myself with things that I can't control."

It would have been easier to just let go and see what or who she would be. She just couldn't though. She wanted to hold on to what she had tried to define herself as. She wanted to prove that she was her own person and not defined by who and what she was made of. Every day, though, she could feel that person slowly slipping away. The dreams and nightmares that filled her nights showed her places and people that were all within her.

"No," Ripley shook her head and thought back to the last people she felt something for.

Call… an innocent looking young lady that was plastic and circuits underneath. Vriess… a mechanic with a good heart and a clear mind. Johner… a gun toting mercenary that shot first and asked questions later.

Ripley couldn't say that she actually cared about them. It was hard for her to say that she had any true emotions. She just knew that she didn't want to see them suffer. Not being with them was a way to make sure that they wouldn't sure because of her.

"They're just as wanted I am though. They're being hunted just like I am. The military won't stop until we're capture or dead," she stood up in thought, "It's kind of funny," she laughed to herself, "It took me five years to realize that… I can't stand being alone."

It was time to move on. It was time to stop hiding. It was time to go out and find the ones that she held close to her heart.

"Of course I have no idea how to find them or get in contact with them," she sighed, "Or even if they are still alive."

She knew they were still alive. There's no way that they would allow themselves to be taken, not without a fight. Not without taking a lot down with them.

"Especially Johner," Ripley smirked she grabbed her pack that she kept by the door.

She never thought she would remove it from its post. It somewhat relieved her to see the layers of dust falling off as she swung it onto her back. It was long trip to the closest port and she wasn't planning on stopping until she got there. The sun was just rising in the east. Dirt and dust swirled around her feet with ever step. It was going to be a hot one that day. It was going to be unforgiving. She didn't care though. She just picked up one foot at a time and made her way through the desolate place.


	5. Dead City

A three part Prelude… bet that's never been done before. I think I can guess why. I just wanted to build up it up before we headed into the meat of the story. Hope you guys enjoyed the appetizers… or maybe they are more like a set of amuse-bouche. Anyway, thanks for coming back and giving me another chance to entertain you. I know that at least two anonymous reviewers did. I think I know who you are… but if I say it, I know I'll be wrong. I think that I found that typo you were talking about and have fixed it. As for the second anonymous reviewer, it's probably a good thing you didn't get to read the first one. Thank you for the encouragement by the way. I really needed it. I'll stop yammering up and let ya'll get back to what you came here for. Please enjoy.

**Chapter One:**

**Dead City**

The small port hadn't changed much since her last visit. Drunkards lined the streets begging for a cred or two to just get through the night. All sorts of filth and garbage filled the gutters that pools of dirty water couldn't drain. Children would run about and jump into these stagnate. Their already dirty clothing collected more spots. Some would trip and fall. They would scrap their knees and begin to cry as their bright red blood would flow. So many people would pass them by without as much as a second thought. Their tears would eventually stop. Not because their mother or father would come and console them. No, they knew that no one would come. What point was there in crying when there was no one to cry to?

That's the way things were. The ports were cold desolate places that were filled with broken people and dreams. Chaos ruled the streets. There were security patrols, but their peace only lasted until they moved on. The chaos would slowly creep back on to the streets and gain control once again. The order of the place was chaos. That is how life seemed to work. Humans like to think that they belong to an orderly society. Nothing could be farther from the truth. They knew nothing of true order.

Ripley shook her. She tried to push such thoughts from her mind. It's what drove her away from humanity. Seeing things like the scene before her was another. Looking at the pitiful creature twisted her stomach and confused her mind. She couldn't say why it made her feel the way she did, but she could guess why. Her own humanity forced her 'care' about the welfare of other humans. The darker regions of her DNA couldn't understand how these beings survived just running about with no plan… no purpose… no…

Ripley shook her head once more. Again she had to pull away from such thoughts. That's not why she was here. She came with a very specific mission. It was a long shot, but it was one that she was sure that would pay off. She had been to this particular port before. It was same one that she had left behind the only people that she knew. It was the only place that they would think to come and look for her. If they were looking for her, this is where they would start. She could at least make it easy for them.

"The easiest place to find someone is usually the local bar," she snorted.

It was not the most ideal place to go. Too many… unsavory characters like to hang out there. Too many of the wrong kind of people… people that she rather not get involved with.

Moving closer to the line of merchant stalls, she grabbed a muslin scarf and wrapped it around her face. At least it would take some effort for people to identify her. Her eyes traced along the growing crowds. There were no familiar faces. She felt relief. No one would know who she was. Hopefully no one would care who she was.

Her eyes fell upon a series of wanted bulletins. The screen flickered as the unblinking eyes stared into nothing. Most were local criminals with low bounties and have committed minor crimes. They were nothing and was obvious by the fact by the posted dates. Some were nearly ten years old. Those guys were most likely long gone or dead. The bounties increased as did the severity of the felonies. The wall of electronic wanted posters continued on until they dwindled down to a few of the most devious characters. That's when she saw them. Four posters stood alone and were embellished with the insignia of the United Systems Military. Anyone that earned the honor of having the USM seal on their wanted poster was truly the most dangerous of villains.

_They haven't seemed to be caught,_ she noticed that none of the posters had a red X on them.

It was relief to know that they were staying out of the military's way. Though, she noticed the bounties were raised on herself and Call. Ripley cocked her head at this strange sight. She had had no contact with any military personal or even any bounty hunters. She had disappeared from humanity. Barely any contact with anyone, save for the merchants she dealt with for supplies. No… there was no reason that her bounty should have been raised… well…none that she caused.

_Call on the other hand…,_ Ripley smiled.

She wouldn't stop till she was sure that the military lost its uncontrollable living weapon. She and Vriess were probably still out there on _The_ _Betty_ doing whatever they could. Johner on the other hand… if he was still with them, was probably drowning himself in a bottle of whiskey.

_I doubt that he's even still with them,_ Ripley had to admit.

He wasn't too happy about the situation last time she saw him. There were a lot of arguments erupting between him, Vriess and Call. Ripley tried to stay out of it, but too often she had to end them; usually with Johner on the floor and she standing over him. Call would get upset that violence was used. Vriess would just smirk and make a witty observation. Johner would get up and try to make his own snappy comeback, but it usually wasn't as good as Vriess.

Ripley sighed. Sure it was a memory of an argument, but she missed those moments that made her smile. It was something that she gave up when she left. Since then, she hadn't had many reasons to smile. She had had too much time to think… too much time to be inside her mind… too much time by herself.

She rested a moment against a wall. She was wrapping herself up in thoughts that weren't important. This wasn't about her… but it was all about her. As far as she knew, she was the only living piece of Xenomorph DNA that was out there. If the military got a hold of her, the nightmare could start all over again. They would relentless if she made her presence known. She had hidden from their sight for so long. For her to expose herself now…

_Maybe this was a bad idea,_ she started to look around frantically.

She stopped. This was not the time to panic. There were too many people around. There were too many eyes to see her behavior. There were too many possibilities for the wrong people to notice her. She had come there for a reason. She needed to move on and forget about her troubles. There was more at stake here than just her inner turmoil.

_But is there really anything at stake? The military didn't have any more samples of Xenomorphs. If they did, sure she would have heard of something… but she had exiled herself… she barely got any information. But Call's bounty…? She must be pretty active in her search for more Xenomorphs,_ Ripley tried to think.

She wouldn't learn anything by just standing around. There were things to do and old… friends to find. Ducking out between the crowds of people, she blended in. the only bar in the port was the place to go when you wanted to find someone. Whether they were there or not, at least it was a start.

_A journey is not an easy thing to start,_ she thought.

"Oh excuse me," a woman pushed passed her.

Ripley's eyes met with the young woman's. They were dark. They were almost so dark that her pupils could barely be distinguished. It was a strange thought that occurred to Ripley. Her eyes glistened in the hazy light. All eyes had a highlight to them, but her's just seemed so… put on. There was also something wrong with her hair. It didn't move right. A dry breeze played with the tassels of Ripley's ill gotten scarf, but this woman's blonde hair barely twirled. Those eyes… their innocent look… so full of fear… she knew them.

"Call?" Ripley cautiously asked.

The woman squinted her eyes, "Ripley?"

They dare not say another word. The walls had ears and their voices already seemed to loud.

Call motioned with her eyes for Ripley to follow. They wove through the crowds and headed to an unknown destination. The scenery around them started to change. The lively shouts of the merchants gave way to the glares and cat calls of men. Ladies of the night clicked their tongues at the pair, as if they were daring them to try and take their well established territories. That is not what they were there for. They were on a mission to get someplace where they could speak.

The natural, hazy light faded as they made their way through the dilapidated streets. The neon glow over took whatever starlight could penetrate. There was no need to pay attention to the street signs. Much like their residents, the streets lead nowhere. The buildings were pretty much useless. Most didn't have a roof and the floors had mostly collapsed. People lived in them though. It was all they had. For most, it's all they knew and ever would know.

The life of the place was just up ahead. It was where all the people came when they wanted to drown their sorrows. It was a place they could become numb to their miserable existence. Unfortunately, when they woke the next morning in a pool of their own bodily fluids, they knew that they would have to face another day.

Ripley wished she could grow numb because of fiery liquid.

They both pushed through the grimy doors of the bar. A few men looked up at the pair, but turned their eyes back to the barmaids that wore much less. They passed by the bar scene and headed towards the inn part of the bar.

Without a word, Call dug into her pocket and pulled out a card key. Swiping it in the door labeled 23, it opened with a swoosh. They entered, both looking back to make sure that no one was following them.

Only one light was on in the barely furnished room. Carefully removing the scarf, Ripley let out a sigh of relief.

"You still going to shoot Vriess?" she turned to a corner.

"It's good to see you again girl," Vriess rolled out with a big smile on his face, "Though, I'm surprised that Call was able to find you so quickly," he had to admit.

"She's just that good," Ripley smiled at her.

"It was just a lucky chance," Call shrugged her shoulders.

"Or fate," Vriess joked.

They stood there in the room in silence. They weren't sure what to say. There was a lot that had happened… for two of them anyway. Maybe they just weren't sure where to start.

"I imagine that you aren't here to just say hi," Ripley put her hands on her hips and stared down at the floor.

Call shifted uncomfortably.

Vriess finally sighed, "There's something you need to know…"

Ripley answered with her own sigh, "I guess I'm not going to like it…"

"Nope…," Vriess answered.


	6. Can Never Truly Escape

The chapters just keep rolling on… well… not really. It's only the fifth chapter… and I guess the first three don't count. They were only preludes. Do those even count as chapters? I don't know. Anyway, I have a thank you to say before I let you lose on the next chapter. I would like to thank Danielle for returning (I figured that you). See you guys around.

**Chapter Two**

**Can Never Truly Escape**

* * *

There wasn't much to say… about their lives that is. Ripley lived in a rundown shack that had holes in the walls and floor… most of them caused by her. Vriess and Call still had _The Betty_. They had more excitement with hacking files and infiltrating military bases. They had been so bold to do it three times.

"Third time's a charm," Vriess smiled, but it was only half hearted.

Ripley could tell that what they had found was both interesting and disturbing. She had hoped that nothing more of the mysterious aliens would be found. Hope is for those that have some; she knew in her heart that the military wouldn't allow their most precious of weapons slip through their fingers.

"I don't… know where we should start," Call sat down on the worn couch.

"I would say the beginning, but I already know that part," Ripley leaned up against the wall.

"It was about a month ago," Vriess started for her, "We… meaning she," he pointed to Call, "infiltrated a military ship, the _USM Triga_. A source indicated that the base was trying to get up and running after losing contact with one of its ships."

"Losing contact?" Ripley raised her eyebrow.

"They missed their time to report in," Call explained, "They are suppose to report in every six months."

"That seems like a long time in between reports," Ripley remarked.

Vriess sighed, "It's supposedly a security measure. It keeps down on the amount of communications that can be tapped. They're short and always on different frequencies."

Ripley smirked, "I suppose that you've been trying to listen in on what's being said."

"With no success," Call admitted.

"Nearly got blasted into space debris," Vriess laughed as he held up two fingers, "Twice."

"We needed to know what this vessel, the _USM Mamsu_, was reporting about. It was a place where they sent their soldiers for medical care," Call continued, "My source said that it was strictly a hospital/medical research ship until seven years ago. The focus shifted completely to research and…," she looked to the floor with sad eyes, "It's rumored that the research was less than humane…"

Ripley raised her eyebrow, "How so?"

Call choked. Obviously what she had heard disturbed her deeply. She may have been metal and plastic, but she still felt. She felt more deeply than what any human possibly could. She was programmed to… but Ripley knew that the Auton was more than what she was programmed to be.

"They were sending prisoners… pretty nasty fellas," Vriess didn't seem to be as bothered, "Death Row inmates."

"Mentally ill as well," Call managed to add.

"From there, they just kind of disappeared," Vriess shrugged his shoulders, "There are no more records of them. No reports. No nothing."

"Not even a body?" Ripley asked.

"Nothing," Vriess confirmed, "That is until Call pulled some interesting files off the _USM Triga_. We haven't been able to decode all of them, but the ones that we were… well…," he motioned to Call.

Call pulled out a data pad and handed it to Ripley. Taking it in her hands, Ripley began to scan over the information. Most of it was about criminals and their pass indiscretions. As Vriess had mentioned, they were pretty nasty characters. There was a file that caught her eyes. It was simply labeled _Hybrid_. She pulled it up and the first file that came up was about the Ripley Clones…about her. She wanted to turn away, but she knew that she was going to have to face this at one point or another.

The file gave her basic information, abilities and origin. She was the eighth clone of a series of failed clones. She was produced from the blood samples from Ellen Ripley on Fiorina 161. She was only produced so the Xenomorph Queen would live again. It was noted that the attending doctors, Gediman and Wren, decided that the byproduct was an interesting case to study. She was only allowed to live by the whims of two men. One had seen and embraced his creations. The other stood wide eyed in fear as they came to tear him apart. The physical and behavior testing was noted as well. There was also a small section noting the lessons they worked on with her. Not much else was.

There was something else there though.

"I see that you noticed the sub-files," Vriess must have seen her curious reaction.

"What is it?" Ripley tried to open it.

"We aren't sure," Call seemed disappointed, "We…"

"Meaning her," Vriess corrected.

"… Weren't able to fully decode it. Only if I could get to my source in a timely manner," Call paced the room.

"Who exactly is her source?" Ripley looked to Vriess.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Don't know him… don't know where he is… don't know much about him…"

"She can't say?" Ripley hinted at Call's true nature.

Again he shrugged his shoulders, "Don't know. I don't ask when it comes to her history before she came aboard _The Betty_."

"There's just not enough time," Call didn't notice their conversation, "Even now they are getting ready and we don't even have a plan…"

"Getting ready for what?" Ripley interrupted her.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, "The _USM Triga_ is a military battleship. They were calling in their Special Forces and military mercenaries from everywhere. They're getting ready to go the _USM Mamsu_… they were getting ready for a fight…"

"How do you know that the inmates haven't escaped or revolted?" Ripley thought for a moment.

"Look at file again… we were able to decode a few things…," Vriess sighed as he rested his chin on his hand.

Looking back down at the data pad, Ripley pulled up other files that were attached to the one called _Hybrid._ It was a video log from a doctor abroad the _USM Mamsu_ She played it.

"My name is Doctor Gwendolyn Gediman," a woman in a white lab coat announced, "I am reporting on my progress on Subject 39…," there was a static interruption, "… the recent samples show a complete merge between her DNA and the Xenomorph's DNA… similar to that found in the Ripley Clones…"

She didn't want to listen to the rest. There was the one word that confirmed everything. There were no doubts left. Even if the inmates had escaped… the true nightmare would have already taken care of them. There was no hope for anyone aboard that ship. There was no hope for the three people that stood in that room.

"It's not a lot," Call spoke up, "but if there's a chance that they have a breeding Queen… then we…," she looked down to the floor in guilt.

"We don't know that for sure," Vriess rolled up to her and took her hand, "All we know is that they have or had an individual that they...," he wasn't quite sure how to put it.

"But isn't that the biggest reason why we should check it out?" Call looked down at him, "Because we don't know."

"Girl…," he sighed, "I think we need to sit down and think about things first. Get in contact with your source and then we can see what the rest of the files say. We've have a better picture then. From there, we'll know what to do."

Call pulled away, "No we have to move now," she raised her voice, "If they have a breeding Queen, then the nightmare will just start over again! If those things would ever get loose…," she collapsed onto the couch.

Vriess went over to console her, but she just wouldn't listen.

Ripley could understand the urgency that Call felt. These creatures were not something to ignore. You had to know what you were walking into. You had to know how they move. You had to know how they strike. You have to know that they learn faster than any known creature. They observe and adapt. They watch and calculated. They hunt as one and think as one. She knew all of this… but still facing them filled her with… anxiety… apprehension… remorse… regret…

A memory came to her. It was brief, but showed her much.

She was in a small space. Her heart was pounding like crazy. Hot tears were running down her face. The screams of terrified Marines filled her ears. She knew that they were being pulled away one by one. She had to do something. They were going to die slowly… painfully… as a new life would grow inside of them. It would metamorphose into a beautiful creature that would reap nothing but terror, leaving a hollow shell that once use to breath. She ran to the controls and revved the engine. It came to life and the vehicle shot forward. She would try to save them… she had tried to warn them… she had seen it all before… that is why they had brought her

"There's no use in planning…," she shook her head.

"Hmm?" Vriess turned to her, "You okay?"

Ripley bent down to Call and stroked her cheek, "We can't stand idly by, but we can't plan either. If they are there," she closed her eyes and slowly opened them, "then we will be walking into their territory. No plans or preparations will be enough. I know," she lingered back to the emerging memories, "You two know that as well," she looked to Vriess, "I guess the question is… are we ready to face things that nightmares are made of?"

They looked to her, then to one another. Vriess gave Call's hand a reassuring squeeze.

Call stood up, "It will be a bigger nightmare if those things get loose."

Vriess sighed, "Yeah… the human race is already screwed up as it is… those things would make life a little harder… just a little though," he laughed.

The humor was appreciated. Call just gave him a look with her small innocent smile. Even Ripley cracked a smile.

"I guess that settles things," Vriess pulled away from the two, "We should get some supplies and make sure _The Betty_ is ready for a little trip."

"Do we even know where we are going?" Ripley had to ask.

"We have the last know coordinates of the _USM Mamsu_," Call pulled up the information on the data pad, "Unlike the _Auriga, _this vessel wasn't programmed with a dead man code to return to Earth. Instead it is suppose to stay at its current position, which works in our favor. There's a scheduled route that it takes."

"All we have to do is figure out where it was suppose to be for the last six months and the go along that route until we find it," Ripley studied the route.

"Easier than that," Vriess smiled, "Little miss spy here managed to get the locator frequency that should have been activated when and if everything went to shit."

Ripley smiled, "So when do we leave and how long before the _Triga_ get's there?"

"As soon as possible," Call answered before Vriess could, "and the _Triga_ is planning on intercepting the _Mamsu_ as soon as they can find it. They're going to send out a scout ship before hand with their best soldiers and mercenaries to see what the situation is," she explained.

"Not a lot of time then?" Ripley was growing excited.

"No," Call confirmed.

"Then we should gather what we need and leave," Ripley headed for the door.


	7. No Such Thing as Easy Money

Don't have much to say. I'm inspired to write, but not up here. I don't think anyone actually reads what I have to say up here. I think you guys just look for the chapter title and start from there. Not that I blame you. You are here to read a story, not listen to someone complain and moan and groan… and you get the point. Anyway, enjoy what you came here to read. You next time round.

Oh… by the way. I certainly can't forget to thank my confidence boosting reviewers Thank you goes out to Danielle for your continued support. I appreciate you coming back and giving me a second chance. I also would like to thank everyone that has taken their time to read my story. I am here to entertain and thrill. Enjoy!

**Chapter Three**

**No Such Thing as Easy Money**

"Thank goodness this is a twenty-four hour port," Call sighed as she rifled through her bag.

"Can't that wait until we get to the ship?" Ripley didn't want to stay too long on the streets with so many… characters about.

They were everywhere. So many eyes stared hungrily at them. They couldn't tell who they were, they just knew that they two women walking in a dangerous area and one of them kept stopping to fiddle with her things. Each stop meant an opportunity to strike. They moved with purpose and silence. Their objective was simple, strike swiftly and violently. These tactics were tried and true. They were affective. They were true predators.

Ripley understood their methods.

"We have to go now," Ripley pulled Call along the sidewalk.

Call was about to say something, but Ripley's eyes said it all. She slowly looked around to see what was gathering. Men with shifty eyes and menacing smirks stared into her eyes. She knew that they were waiting and with her every stop, she was attracting more onlookers.

"Sorry," Call whispered as she drew closer to Ripley.

"We just have to make it to hanger," Ripley glared at the men, "And hope that the supplies are there."

"And so is Vriess," Call was uncomfortable about the growing situation.

They had been uneasy since the decision to leave was made. It was a simple choice, stay or leave. Each had so many consequences. To stay meant a lost opportunity to learn deeper, darker secrets that the military held. To leave meant to face them. There was no way to tell what they would be face. The files were only partially decoded. They gave only teasing bits of information that peaked their curiosity. They spoke of things known and things that didn't want to be known. Ripley knew that she would have to face these cyber demons eventually, but she had already made a difficult choice that day. Two would wear on her too much.

"Me too…," Ripley answered after a long period of silence.

The rest of the way was littered with all sorts of characters, but they were losing their interest in the pair and concentrated on women that had more to offer. Their calls were far to alluring and the promise of wild night was far better than the meager possessions of two out of place strangers.

The dimmest of place did not falter as they came to a port's seedier hangers. A different sort of characters tended to stay around this place. Outlaws and criminals ruled this area. They minded their business. Others walking through would be the lease of their concerns. Though in truth, they knew they had to be on watch all the time. Every person could be there for them… the last things they would ever see could be determined by the most unsuspecting person.

Ripley understood their quick glances.

"The ship is at hanger B-14… at the very end…," she sighed.

That was a long walk. The larger open place took hold of their every step and pushed it back at them with ten times the force. There were no sounds, other than the ones they made. It felt so heavy as they slowly moved through. It was almost suffocating. For it being so open and wide, it felt like there was barely any air. Each echoing sound reverberated back to the ear and sent vibration up and down the spine. This place that was supposed to be the busy hanger in port seemed dead and abandoned.

There should have been the sounds of busy of mechanics and dock workers loading and unloading cargo. Men should have been arguing over the price of docking fees. The machines should have been whipping around and working at a furious pace. None of that was happening.

"Ripley?" Call was feeling the pressure of the lonesome place.

"…," Ripley scanned the piles of crates and places where the shadows seem the darkness, "We should leave…," she started to back away.

"What about Vriess?" Call looked down to the last hanger door.

"Don't need to worry about him ladies," a smooth masculine voice echoed throughout the hanger.

Ripley clinched her teeth as she whipped her head around to find where the voice originated from.

"No point in doing that my dears," it was coming from the speakers.

That's when they started to crawl from every place possible. Several men poured from behind crates and unmoving machines. Most of them carried a weapon of some sort. Whether it was a gun, a knife or a simple blunt object, they were ready for a fight. Their clothing was worn and ripped. There were even hints of bloody stains that would never come out. Some of them covered their faces with bandanas, whiles other just let their ugly, scarred face show. They glared and snickered as they closed in around them.

"Careful boys," the originator of the voice finally appeared, "Their specs say they're pretty dangerous."

"I don't know boss," one of the men snorted, "That Vriess was easy and Charlie jumped that Johner guy as soon as he entered the port. Old merc didn't have chance," he laughed to a man in a bandana.

"Johner?" Call looked to Ripley, "What… happen to him?" she looked to the boss of the group, "Where's Vriess?"

The boss slowly approached. Grey hairs started to show through his head of black hair. A long jagged scar ran down his face and under his body armored chest. His one eye was blank and saw no light. His other was dark and filled with desire and ambition. He was a man that had seen this situation before. He had wielded absolute power over many men. He was the one to live and let others die. He was in it for the money and the crew of _The Betty_ was a quick fix.

But they would not be easy.

Ripley would make sure of that.

"Johner? Last heard he was dying in a ditch… he ain't worth it to drag his withered old hide out of the shit. Your boy Vriess is fine," the boss smiled, "We've been taking good care of him," he gave hard snort, "He's not worth much as you two, but his bounty will pay for the fuel we used to get here. Eh boys?" he laughed to them.

They shared in their leader's laughter, but always kept their eyes on Ripley and Call. Their eyes were hungry, but not in the same way as the men on the street. These men looked at them as if they were ripe fruits for the plucking. They dangled just out of reach, teasing them with ruby red skin and crisp, sweet flesh. They would have just stepped up and grabbed them, but they knew that the two rich fruits had thorns. They had to wait for the brambles to be clear before they could take what they desired.

"I really don't understand why the military has an interest in you three," the leader started to make a wide circle around them, "Not really any of my business either. My business is to make money, drink and make merry with my fellow hunters," he turned to his men.

They all gave a loud cheer.

"Now," he turned back to the women, "We can do this the easy," he had out a pair of cuffs, "or we can do this the hard way," he aimed a gun at them, "I don't really care which, but please," he smiled once more, "I would love a little excitement."

Ripley looked around her. There were seven men just itching to start something. Their bodies twitched and made quick movements. They dared Ripley to make a move. She did not. There was little to no concern for herself. She would survive. It was in her nature to survive. It wasn't just about her.

She looked back to Call that had stepped behind. There was true fear in her eyes. It wasn't for her though. Call rarely, if ever, thought about herself. No, she was thinking of Vriess… maybe even Johner.

Ripley stared deeply into each and every one of the men's eyes that surrounded them. Most of them had eyes that greedily staring back. A few seemed dead and only there in body and not mind. The one with the bandana covered face that stood directly behind the boss… his eyes…

"Sorry to disappoint," Ripley raised her hand in surrender.

The men groaned and some even lowered their weapons.

The boss sighed as he put his hands on his hips, "That's no fun… oh well," he shrugged his shoulders as he turned away from them, "At least it's easy money. Cuff 'em," he said to the man behind him.

He only nodded in acknowledgement and headed for Ripley with handcuffs ready. Another came from behind and started to roughly pull Call's hands behind her. She let out a few yelps; but they were in surprise and programmed reactions to rough treatment. Ripley glared back at him; telling him with her glare to knock it off. He only smile and smooched his lips at her. The other stepped in front of Ripley and grabbed her hands. Placing the cuffs over her wrists, he placed something in her hands.

"Make sure not to shot me," he growled underneath the bandana as he leaned in close.

"Everything okay?" the boss watched the scene.

"Yeah… great…," the bandana man turned around to him, "Snug as a bug in a rug."

"That doesn't sound like Charlie," some of the men started to whisper.

"That's because Charlie is dead," the man pulled down the bandana.

"Johner!?" Call called out in surprise.

Clank… the cuffs that sat on Ripley's wrists fell to the floor as she brought up the gun.

"So… you killed Charlie and not the other way around," the boss snorted, "… I didn't like him anyway."

"What can I say?" Johner shrugged his shoulders, "I'm a tough old codger to kill."

"Too bad you're about to die," the boss pointed a gun straight at Johner's gun, "I knew you were known for shooting first and thinking later, but this was suicidal."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Johner smiled.

BOOM!

The shot echoed through the air and drowned out the heavy of the boss as he fell to the ground. His back was torn open the multipliable shots pierced through his body. Bright red blood began to flow from each wound until it formed a pool on his back and pored over onto the floor. He didn't stir. He didn't move. His breath was gone.

"Not bad for a cripple," Johner commented.

"Legs are no good," Vriess rolled up with his shotgun still ready to fire, "But the rest of me is still pretty useful."

"Just barely though," Johner laughed.

"Vriess!" Call wanted to run over to him, but Ripley held her back.

"As for the rest of you…," Johner started too announced.

"Run," Ripley gave them a hard stare.

The men, so fierce and eager before, turned tail and ran for the open hanger door. Johner took aim, but Ripley forced his hand down.

"Just one," he growled.

"None," Ripley was not in the mood for his games.

"Vriess are you okay?" Call slipped her hands out of the cuffs as Vriess came up to her.

"I'm alright," he smiled.

"Your head," she noticed the trail of blood dripping down his face.

"Oh that," he shook it off, "That's nothing."

She continued to fondle over his minor head wound.

"So you finally decided to show your face," Ripley stayed stone faced.

"So you finally decided to do something other than hide," Johner took a jab at her.

"So you finally decided to work with us," Ripley turned to him.

"Like hell I am," Johner hissed, "I only came here because I got tired of fended off every single yahoo that tried to take that bounty on my head. I'm here," he cracked his knuckles, "To settle things."

Bam! Ripley didn't even give him a chance to swing.

"Ripley! What did you do that for?" Call stared at her in amazement.

"You know he wouldn't come willingly," she took hold of Johner by collar, "and I didn't feel like arguing with him. And you know that he will be complaining all the way there."

Vriess could only smile and nod his head in agreement. Call was still in a little shock as Ripley dragged the unconscious Johner across the floor. There was no arguing with Ripley when she decided on something. Not that most could or should stand against her.

There was no point in standing around. Their near captor was lying dead on the ground and his crew had run off. It wouldn't be too long before the call of a big payday would lure them back. It was time to leave the port of sins and sinners. It was time to plunge back into the sweet embrace of endless void of space.

Ripley really never liked being grounded anyway.


	8. Into the Void

Sorry about the long break. I finally got a new job and it has me running around like a mad woman. I don't care though; I get to care for animals that need a little loving. Anyway, it's nice to be working and writing again. We're finally getting to where our intrepid crew… and Johner are off to find adventure and most likely death. So, let me just thank someone for the always helpful review and we'll get on with it. Many thanks go out to Danielle for the constructive criticism (it's always good to hear). Sorry about the typos. I did that chapter at night and into the early morning and probably too sleepy to notice the errors. See you guys later.

**Chapter Four**

**Into the Void…**

"All I'm saying is that if that money isn't there…," Johner started to threaten.

"It will be there Johner," Call was starting to get frustrated with his attitude.

"You keep saying that, but you don't know if it's still there," Johner hovered over her, "We can't even find the fuking ship!"

He was a little too close for comfort. He had backed her into a corner. She felt like she could barely move as his body came closer to her's. His body language promised a fight if she wasn't more precise with her answers. She was telling him all she could or at least what she knew. She knew that the reward for them was being kept on the _USM Mamsu_ and that they were to be brought there when captured. If the _USM Mamsu_ was still out there it could be a treasure trove of paper money. Completely untraceable pieces of paper that just about everyone wanted.

"I told you that the ship has probably drifted off course," Call started to tremble, "All we have to do is find its ion trail and then follow it…"

"We've been out here for a week and nothing but space dust and…," he was getting to close to her face.

"That's enough," a strong hand grabbed Johner's shoulder.

He was sent flying back about fifteen feet and tumbled to a stop just before he hit the wall.

"We're already in tight quarters as it is," Ripley stood in front of Call, "We don't need to be in each other's faces," she started to walk towards him, "Or do I need to strap you back down in your bed again."

He only smirked, "I'm really not into that kind of thing, but I'm always into trying new things."

She mimicked his smirk, "Cause any more trouble and I'll make sure that you can't even play with yourself," she hinted.

He glanced down to where she hinted. He wasn't going to go there. If he did, he might not come out as he went in. he loved a good fight, but he preferred the ones that he knew he could win. Standing up and brushing himself off, Johner only grumbled as he pushed past the two women.

Ripley didn't pay too much attention to what he had to say. It would be just a slur of curse words and whatever else came to his mind. Turning to Call, she gave a heavy sigh.

"You okay?" she could still see that Call was trembling.

"Yeah," Call answered with a sigh, "As long as I've known him, I've always been little afraid of Johner. He's unpredictable… I just never know what he'll do next."

Ripley watched as Johner slammed the door behind him, "That's what makes him useful… all teams need a maverick."

"But one that has slammed a drunk man's head into a bar for burping in his face?" Call had to question, "Let alone dropping a knife in a paralyzed man's leg," she rolled her eyes, "Frankly… there's too many times that I would rather not think about."

"Maybe if we're lucky, one of the Xenomorphs will get him," Ripley smiled as she followed after her.

"Don't say thing like that," Call hushed her, "I would never wish… that kind of death on anyone…," she shivered.

Ripley smirked, "I wouldn't either, but there are those that deserve it."

Call only shook her heads as she opened the door to the cockpit, "Hey Vriess," she greeted, "How are things up here?"

Vriess just turned his head back to them, "Not much has changed. Haven't run into anyone or any big ship… that would have been a good bump," he laughed to himself.

"No hints of a military ship?" Call wasn't in the mood to laugh.

"Just the clean empty void of space," Vriess sighed, "… maybe we're looking the wrong place."

"No," Call came up next to him and started to look through the star charts, "They were scheduled to come through this way about five months ago."

"But we don't know when the ship went dead or whatever happened," Vriess was growing frustrated, "It could have gone dead a month ago. It could have been destroyed… we just don't know."

"We just can't give up," Call argued back, "It's out here. Whether we find the ship or its debris, we need to find something."

Vriess sighed, "Even if it means following the scheduled route all the way though…"

"What choice do we have?" Call looked to him.

"… Well…," he thought for a moment, "We could try to tap into military transmissions and see what they have to say. They might have already found the ship and we're chasing ghosts. We could run into a military patrol… You know _The Betty_ can't outrun that girl," he looked up at her with sad eyes, "We got to look out for ourselves first…"

Call sighed. She understood what he meant. They could only push for so long and so hard. What good would they be doing if they were chasing ghosts in the middle of nowhere? What use were they if they were caught? There was a big threat out there… bigger than the people that created it. They had to stop it from spilling into the human world, but they had to take care of themselves first.

"What should we do then?" she asked.

All of them just looked to the floor to find an answer. Of course it wouldn't have one. It was just a way for a person to think. Ripley never really liked that method of contemplating. She needed space to think. Looking to the floor only made her feel claustrophobic… she was in a tin can in the middle of a void.

She closed her eyes. The darkness hid the walls that constrained her. It allowed her to think… clearly. The sounds of the ships disappeared into the white noise of her mind. She sank deep with it to escape from the reality that surrounded her. It was there that she found some sort of comfort.

Comfort was something that she wasn't use to feeling.

She had only felt it in the smallest of moments… the most desperate of times. She thought that staying amongst those she knew would ease her apprehensions and fears. Being with them only made her quake within her own skin. She could never pin point why she felt so uneasy with them, but she knew that she couldn't stay. She thought being alone… on the outskirts of existence would bring her solace, but none ever came. The nightmares that haunted her at night would echo into the day. She could barely tell what was within reach and what was merely in her head. There were period of times she couldn't remember… months that didn't exist. She thought that there was no place for her in the world… or any place… she was alone… she wanted to be alone… yet she craved… she craved the touch of others… she craved the feeling of bodies rubbing up against her… she craved the unity of one mind… one mind that numbed everything…

That was true comfort…

There… she felt something… just in the corner of her mind. It tingled and twitched. It moved and breathed… not just breathed… it sighed and cried. It longed for something… something missing. It was disorganized… it didn't know which way to go. It pulled one direction, but it wanted go another way. So many feelings… so hard to tell what it wanted. It was sad. It was mad. It was terrified. It was confused. It was longing.

There… there was something more. A deeper line of emotions sat just below the mass of bewildered feelings. It wasn't like the mass… it was focused. There was one thing on that was constantly there… search. Search for the one. Search for… search for…

It felt Ripley poking into its thoughts. It came to the front and straight into her. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She wanted to reach for her thought, but she couldn't even move. Her body was paralyzed. It was holding her in place. It wouldn't let her move… not until it knew she wasn't a threat… a threat to its survival. Through the darkness… it came. White gleams that formed an outline of a massive creature. Glints of silver jagged teeth appeared just before her eyes. They snapped at her, but did not come any closer. It was still curious about her presence. It could sense that she wasn't afraid… this annoyed it. The teeth moved apart and another set shot at her.

"GAH!" Ripley was suddenly able to catch her breath.

"What happened?" Call looked like she would jump out of her artificial skin, "Are you okay Ripley?" she came up next to her.

"You look like you've seen a ghost or something," Vriess noticed how pale she had gotten.

"I'm… I'm fine," she started to breathe again, "… just a… a vision," she held her hand over her eyes, "… I… I felt something…"

"What was it?" Call looked to Vriess.

Ripley looked to window, "They're out there… I felt them… a hive… so many… they are so confused…," she began to feel the tingle of minds filling her's, "They're close… oh so close," she wanted to reach out to them, "I think… I think I can follow them… there," she pointed.

Vriess and Call looked to each other. They weren't quite sure what was going on. Ripley was in a distance stare. She pointed in a direction which she said she 'felt them'. Could she possibly feeling the singular mind of their hive? She was no ordinary creature. Not human. Not alien. It wasn't their call to say what was going on inside her mind. She rarely knew herself.

"Are you sure?" Vriess took the controls.

The feelings called to her.

"I'm sure," there was no doubt in her mind.


	9. Old Nightmares

*Shakes fists angrily into air* Darn you writer's block! Seriously. I've sat at my computer so many nights with a blank stare on my face. I just didn't know how to shake it this time. Suddenly… it hit me. Literally, I hit my head. I hit my head at work and I started getting ideas for my stories. I even came up with an idea for an original series… but you guys wouldn't care about that. Anyway, I'm back in the game and hoping that I can get this back on track. To start things off, I would love to thank Danielle for the helpful critics. I will try to watch it on the errors. I promise. Thanks also go out to all those that are taking their time to read my story. I hope that y'all are enjoying. I catch you next chapter.

P.S. – I watched Prometheus recently… I am so confused now… really, really confused… Thank you Ridley Scott.

**Chapter Five:**

**Old Nightmares**

* * *

So many voices… there were so many of them… more than she that thought… they filled her completely… their confusion… their loneness… their desire… their need… it was almost too much to resist…

"You okay Ripley?" Call whispered to her.

"Yeah…," she shook her head, "It's been so long since I've been amongst them…"

"This is bullshit," Johner paced the hallway nervously, "I will put her down if she can't handle this and I will take that fucking ship and leave you all behind."

"Shut up," Vriess hushed him, "Those things are all around us and you shouting is going to draw them in," he glanced down at the radar, "So either keep quiet and watch our backs or so help me God, I will throw you over the railing."

"Throw me over the railing," Johner grabbed him by the collar, "I'll throw you over… ACK!" he was lifted away by his throat.

"Knock it off," Ripley hissed in his face, "There is no time for this… They know we're here and they're bidding their time… We are the prey… They are the Predators… This is their hunting grounds… They will rip you apart and not think anything of it…," she pulled him closer to her, "Don't you forget it," she released him.

He took a few unsteady steps back into the rickety railing. He coughed and tried to catch his breath. He growled, but kept his mouth shut.

"Let's go… before they get organized," Ripley warned as she took the lead.

They knew that she wasn't handling the… 'voices'… well. She was wandering about '_The Betty'_ for the past few days in a daze. She would stand there, staring at the walls; no thought or expression on her face. Call would have to go up to and give a gentle shake to bring her back, but she never truly came back.

They still had a grip on her… even after all these years.

"We can turn back," Call caught up to her, "I can try to access the main computer from an exterior panel…"

Ripley stared her directly in the eye, "You know that the system is locked and the only way to start the detonation sequence is from the main control panel on the Bridge," she turned back to the hallway.

"You know girl… this is no place to face your demons," Vriess commented.

Ripley stopped, but she wouldn't even turn to him. She knew that he was right. She had been hiding from these creatures for so long. She knew that she would have to face them at one point or another… but not this soon… not so close.

"Demons," Johner snorted, "These things aren't demons… demons are only in the mind," he passed Ripley, "These things are real…"

He had a point… for once. In the years that he had been gone… he faced more than what she had… he learned… she hadn't…

"Thanks Johner," she smiled, "I needed that."

"You all heard that, right?" he looked to the others.

They only rolled their eyes and continued on at a cautious and quiet pace.

Vriess kept his eyes on the radar, making sure that nothing was moving closer to them. So many dots lined the screen. Some were single and others were red blobs. They hadn't move since they got on board. The initial scan of the ship showed three masses that were concentrated at the warmest parts of the ship. A small mass was located towards the barracks and randomly place dots were scattered across the entire ship. There were… so many…

"With all those convicts and soldiers and patients…," Vriess snorted, "no wonder there's so many…"

"Question is," Call wondered out loud, "where is the Queen… with so many mass… it looks like there's at least three nests. There's no telling which one she's in."

"Or maybe there's three Queens," Johner joked.

Vriess shuddered, "Don't even want to think about that."

Click…. Click… Click…. Click… something was drawing closer.

The voices vanished from Ripley's mind and the clicking was all she could hear. A familiar scene played before her.

She was holding a scanner… much like the one that Vriess was holding… Going down dark hallways… flashing red lights… a voice warning of impending doom… they… they were in the shadows… the scanner…

The clicks only sounded how long one had to survive. They mocked the ones that used the machine to find the silent predators. A useful, but sarcastic thing.

"We've got company," Vriess held up his weapon.

Johner took aim down the dimly lit hallway. Only the emergency power was lighting the way. Enough energy to continue to breathe… not enough to see… perfection for hunting.

Growls and hissing could be heard from the darkened corridor. Unseen claws scrapped against the metal floor. A long and twisted tail dragged behind. The pace sounded steady. There was no rush, though there was fresh prey in reach.

Its dome like head appeared in the dim light. It was black as coal with a hue of blue in the highlights on its shiny head. Long trails of clear, thick drool dripped and hung from its jagged jaw. Silver sharp teeth glistened in the light. Its anemic body crawled through from the shadows with its ridged tail following close behind. Normally so eager to attack, this one paid no attention to the trespassers.

Ripley could feel the confusion that was going through… her mind. No thoughts… no commands… no one to turn to… a lost child with no mother comfort her…

She wanted to reach to her… comfort her… soothe her

"Let's just shoot the mother fucker," Johner's trigger finger was itching.

"Don't," Ripley hissed as she pushed Call up against the wall, "She won't attach… there's no one to command her… she doesn't know what to do. Move aside and let her pass."

Vriess followed her lead and pressed his chair as close the wall as he could. Johner on the other hand stayed put with his riffle pointed at the Xenomorph's head. It looked up at him, though it had no eyes. It did not growl or hiss or even attempted to take a swipe at him. It just rubbed its jaw across the metal grates and seemed to whimper.

"Johner… move…," Ripley whisper, "If you shoot now, the rest will be alerted and we will not survive."

"I know it's hard for you," Vriess hissed, "But think before you shoot."

Johner's lips curled and his teeth clinched as he debated on whether or not to shoot. With a groan and a growl, he pulled his riffle up and slammed himself against the wall. The Xenomorph swayed its head back and forth for a few moments, then crawled down the hallway back into the darkness.

There was a singular release of a long held breath by all present.

"Why didn't it attack?" Call still hugged the wall.

"There's no one here to tell her to do so," Ripley could feel the confusion slipping away with crawling killing machine.

"I should have just wasted that mother fucker," Johner regretted.

Vriess growled, "If you would have, I would have shot you so they could tear you apart while we slipped away."

"Why you fucking cripple…," Johner started again.

Click… Click.. Click. Click click click…

Something was right on top of them. Eyes went everywhere to see where it was. Nothing to the right. Nothing to left. The floor was too shallow to hide a human size beast. All eyes turned to the ceiling. Ducts and hollow voids lined the space above their heads.

"I think I hear something," Call focused on a certain point above them.

SHEIRK!

A horrid scream rang through the air.

It was there. One single mind dominating a few. It was deep. It was strong. It was focused. It was primal. It was savage. It was unlike anything that Ripley had every felt. Where other minds poked and was curious about her, this one jabbed and pushed her away. It wanted nothing to do with her. It wanted her gone.

"Where is it!?" Johner whipped around his riffle.

"They are right above us!" Vriess drew his own weapon.

A set of razor sharp claws piercing through the metal ceiling confirmed the radar's suspicions.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Johner and Vriess let the bullets fly. They shredded through the metal and hard keratin skin. Shrapnel and acid flew through the air and landed every which way. Shrieks of pain echoed with the sounds of the bullets and ripping metal.

"RUN!" Ripley pulled Call from the carnage.

The group didn't have to be told twice. They left behind whatever mess that they had made. Ripley glanced behind her to see a dismantled corpse falling though the acid made hole. It lay there for a moment then dropped through the growing hole in the floor. Shrieks and growls filled the air and the scratching of claws grew louder and louder. Ones without thought suddenly came to their senses. There was now something for them to do. The mindlessness and confusion faded and was soon replaced by the one that pushed Ripley away.

They didn't know where they were running to. The place was like a maze of hallways and corridors. Whatever way seemed the safest was the way they fled. Vriess and Johner turned on the occasion to fire off a few rounds to drive back the growing numbers. Shrieks signaled that some were hit, but two took their place. They couldn't keep this up forever. They would either tire or run out of bullets. There had to be an exit.

"GAH!" Johner fell as one jumped out ahead of the pack.

He kept the beast from snapping down on his head by shoving the butt of his riffle into its mouth.

"Get this thing off me!" he was having a hard time holding it back.

Vriess took aim, but Call stopped him, "He'll be burned to death by the acid blood."

All he could do was aim his gun and grit his teeth as he watched Johner struggle for his life.

Ripley could do more.

She ran towards the beast and met her shoulder with its dome head. It knocked it back, but made sure to rake its talons across Johner's chest. He sneered in pain as he grabbed at his wounds. The alien seemed somewhat surprised by the charging act of a creature lesser than it. It bared its teeth with a growl.

Ripley instantly got in front of Johner and the others. Call tried to pull Johner away, but he was too heavy for her. Ripley turned her attention back to the growling creature. It waved its tail back and forth, waiting for the right moment to strike. There wasn't much time. The others would be on them soon and with Johner bleeding all over the floor, there was no way for them to escape.

She… but not her… had felt this before. The hopelessness of knowing that survival wasn't a sure thing.

A harsh poke peeked into her mind. It same deep voice that had pushed her away before. It knew what she was feeling… the despair… the fear… the bleakness… it enjoyed her pain. She tried to push it away, but it burrowed deeper. Her body felt numb. She couldn't move. It was trying to take control of her… it was succeeding.

She could only watch as the alien in front of her took aim.

"Ripley!" Call called out.

Vriess started to take aim, but someone pushed passed him.

"Don't!" a familiar voice called out, "She'll be sprayed with acid!"

A white fog shot out of a canister that the person was hold. A cool breeze blew passed her and whipped into the face of the Xenomorph. It shrieked in pain and fled without a trace.

"Come on," a middle aged woman in a shredded white lab coat, "They'll be back soon," she tugged on Ripley's arm.

The feeling was returning to her, but she still felt so stiff. She couldn't let that stop her. The stranger was right. They would be back and soon.

"Ripley," Call looked up to her as she applied pressure to Johner's wounds.

"It'll be fine," she pulled Johner to his feet and flung one of his arms over her shoulders.

"Fine for you," he clinched in pain, "I'm the one bleeding all over the place."

"Just like old times," Vriess smiled.

"Come on!" the woman looked to see if the creatures were coming, "There's a shelter just ahead. I can tend to your friend's wounds, but we have to hurry," she pleaded.

The group quickly followed the woman. Their footsteps were frantic as they tried to each this safe haven. The sounds of scrapping claws started up once again. They were drawing close and there was no sign of a door or hatch that led elsewhere.

"Just ahead!" the woman ran up ahead to a divide in the hallway.

There was nothing there, but she acted like it was the best place in the world. She started pushing on the wall in what looked like a sequence of sorts. The wall started to open up and reveal a secret passageway. She motioned for them to hurry.

It was so close… but so were they…


	10. Survivors

Our first look at the creatures that have haunted ours and Ripley's nightmares. More are to come… I promise. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while, but I had to complete my Fable story and tie up some loose ends. Now that it's complete, I can look more into this one. Though… I have to admit I'm working on some of my original stuff… NO… I promise that I will try to update this story in a timely manner. Cross my heart and hope to fry; may a chestbuster come out of me… no… don't want that… that would be painful. Anyway, enjoy the short chapter and I'll see you around.

**Chapter Six**

**Survivors**

* * *

"This is a general anesthesia," the woman explained as she injected Johner in several places on his chest, "Just keep the pressure on his wounds," she handed Call and Ripley large pieces of gauze.

They pressed into his wounds and he clinched his teeth in pain.

"I need to flush out the wounds," she started to pull out syringes and bags of fluids, "Move your hands," she motioned to Call.

Call pulled away her hands. They were drenched with bright red blood. It was running down her arm and dripping to the metal floor. She could barely look at them as she headed towards the sink. Vriess looked for a towel or something to wipe her hands on.

"Here," a man in a tattered white lab coat handed him a blue cloth.

He had been sitting on a swivel stool since they entered the small white room. He hadn't gotten up to help with Johner and he only wheeled around grabbing things for the woman. He now leaned up against the wall with his chin resting on his palm.

Call quickly washed her hands and wiped them dry. Vriess took the bloody rag and toss it out of her sight. She just stood there as the doctor continued to work on Johner.

"It's not as bad as I thought," the woman examined the wounds, "Much more shallow… just a lot of blood...," she noticed the blood dripping from the table to the floor.

"Not that bad huh?" Johner clinched his teeth, "Here I thought that motherfucker ripped out my chest!"

"Calm down Johner," Ripley secretly dug one of her fingers into one of his wounds, "The good doctor is going to fix you up. Just lay back and relax."

He clinched his teeth even harder and mouthed something at her, but kept quiet as the woman doctor came back with a syringe full of clear liquid. She squirted into the wounds and Johner sneered as it burned and washed away the bacteria and infectious pathogens.

"Sorry," she shyly smiled, "I know it hurts but the wounds have to be cleaned before I close them."

"Heard it all before," he indicated to the scars on his face, "The last doc promised to keep this pretty mug in one piece… he didn't do too well."

Bam!

Ripley slammed Johner's head back.

The doctor was taken aback by her aggressive manners, "He's injured! Slamming his head like that could cause a serious injury!" she checked Johner's head.

"Trust me Doc," Vriess laughed, "There wasn't much up there to hurt anyway. Bang him around all you like."

Johner only raised his middle finger to Vriess. He just shrugged his shoulders and smirked at Johner's clinches and hisses of pain.

"This is going to feel a little strange," the female doctor started to staple his wounds closed.

Ripley held his shoulders down, so he wouldn't jump so much. He eventually stopped his flinching as more and more staples entered his skin.

"There…," the doctor wiped her brow, "they're closed. Let me just clean up the site a little and apply some antibiotics," she rummaged through a drawer.

"No thanks…," Johner started to sit up in pain, but Ripley pushed him back down again.

"Over here my dear Gwen," the man pulled open a drawer and held out an ointment, "This one works better."

She looked to him for a moment; like she didn't want to use what he had. She sighed and took the tube from him. Applying the silvery white ointment to some sterile bandages, she gently placed them Johner's freshly closed wounds.

"Lie here for a while and rest," she smiled to Johner, "Too much movement could open the wounds, and," she pulled liquid out of a small vile, "this should keep you from getting an infection," she stuck him in the arm.

"So gentle," his eyes lingered to private places.

Ripley just flicked him in the head.

"Thanks for patching him up," Vriess thanked the woman doctor, "He's annoying as hell, but he's a reliable motherfucker."

"Same to you Vriess… same to you," Johner snorted.

"I'm just sorry that you stumbled upon this God forsaken place," the woman washed her hands, "This was not the ship to scavenge."

"God hasn't forsaken this place," the man on the stool smiled, "We were gods here… we are still here…"

"Oh Anton," the woman looked at him sadly.

"Sounds like someone lost a few screws," Vriess whispered up to Ripley and Call.

"Who wouldn't in a place like this," the man sighed, "It is a place given to the devil's offspring. They run the hallways that use to be ours. They nest in the hollow caverns that once propelled this space bound graveyard. They have taken the chaos of this place and replaced it with their strict order," he smiled, "I'm sorry," he apologized, "After all that I have seen… and the loss of my leg," he indicated to the stump of his left leg, "has made me see how insane I was."

"Sounds like you still are," Vriess snorted.

"Please forgive Dr. Anton," the woman begged, "He has been stuck in this room for three weeks now due to the loss of his leg. Being confined for so long is not good for mental health," she tried to smile, "but hopefully rescue will come soon."

The doctor laughed, "Yes… rescue my dear Gwen… that will be a bullet in between the eyes," he pointed to his brow, "These people here are our salvation… for you anyway… I'm not going anywhere," he meant his disability.

She bent down to him, "I'm not leaving you behind Anton. We've been through a lot these last seven years… you've looked out for me and I'm going to do the same for you."

"So sweet…," Johner commented from his down position.

Ripley ignored him and stepped towards the pair, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there are a lot of questions that need answering."

The woman sighed, "What's the point in asking questions?" she turned to the group, "All you need to know is that those things out there want to kill you. They are beast of the worst kind; smart and deadly."

"That's kind of standard for a Xenomorph," Ripley smirked.

"How… how do you know what they are?" the woman looked to her in confusion and surprise.

"Don't you know who they are my dear Gwen?" the man asked as he leaned up against the wall, "That's your brother's creation… that's Ripley 8 and they," he motioned to the others, "Are the only known survivors of the _USM Auriga_."

She turned to them and just stared.

"If you don't mind doctors," Ripley folded her arms.

"Questions… yes," the man smiled, "Ask away."


	11. A Trade

**Chapter Seven**

**A Trade**

* * *

The man insisted that they all make themselves comfortable before he or the female doctor would answer their questions. The wrinkles around his mouth form parenthesis every time he smiled. It was a strange thing to Ripley to see a man smiling in the mist of deadly beasts. Only men that knew they were going to die by their creation would smile… a proud smile. He knew this ship would be his final resting place. He didn't look old due to age. It was more from life. Not a hard one. A stressful one. The uneven streaks of greys indicated to times when his mind was racked with the impossible. His black hairs tried to hold on, but they were losing the fight. His thin form once was finely toned, but now was a shadow of its former self. The dark circles under his eyes told tales of sleepless night spent in a laboratory or in front of a computer. How he and the woman doctor had been there, they would soon find out, but his mental state made it quite obvious.

"I can imagine that you have a lot of questions," he eyed Ripley, "I am willing to answer what I can, but don't blame me if you don't like them."

"I won't shoot the messenger," Ripley smirked for a moment, "How about you tell us who you are first."

"Of course," he smiled, "How rude of me. We didn't even introduce ourselves. I am," he gave a small bow to them, "Dr. Anton Hancock. I preferred to be called Dr. Anton. I am… well… was," he corrected himself, "the head researcher on all things Xenomorph… that is here on the _USM Mamsu_," he added, "And the lovely young lady next to me," he smiled up to her, "Is Dr. Gwendolyn Gediman. Like me, she prefers to be called Dr. Gwen. She is the head medical officer and researcher of all things regarding human illnesses and defects… and the only here that has been able to maintain her sanity," he whispered loudly.

This Dr. Gwendolyn Gediman… she was thin woman. Probably like her male counterpart, she hadn't much to survive on… the trials that she must have had to endure. The reddish blotches on her torn white lab coat and scrubs said of the horrors she had seen. Big brown eyes were laden with sadness and grief. Though the dark circles under her eyes spoke loudly of her sad story, she still seemed to hold herself up. She had to be the one that held it together… her friend lost it long ago. There were a few sprigs of greys in her tied back dishwater blonde hair. One would have simply thought that they were really light highlights, but they weren't smooth and curled about like a gnarled trunk of a tree. Her glistening white skin hinted at her long years under artificial lights. Her entire body was wound and ready spring at any moment.

This Dr. Gediman… was different from her… brother.

She stared at her and she stared back.

Ripley smiled, "You're wondering if what he said was true," she looked to Dr. Anton, "The answer is yes."

"So you are my brother's creation…," the doctor swallowed hard, "You're what he was so proud of…"

Ripley raised her eyebrow, "Proud? I thought he would have been more proud of my child," she traced her finger along her chest where a scar use to reside.

Dr. Gwen looked uncomfortably to white walls of the small room, "You would surprised…"

"Hate to interrupt, but," Vriess wanted to get back on track, "we came here to do a job. We need to know where the command center is and if there is enough energy left to blow this hell hole to kingdom come."

"And where the money is," Johner added.

"So you don't care about our little friends outside the door?" Dr. Anton seemed a little hurt.

"I was rather curious why they weren't clawing their way in here?" Call wondered.

Dr. Anton could barely contain himself, "That is due to my studies on their vision… or lack of," he wheeled over to a console, "They lack eyes, but within their dome like head…," he started to explain.

"Short version doctor," Dr. Gwen smiled.

"Right," he agreed, "There is an electro magnet… net if you will, that surrounds this place," he indicated to the walls, floor and ceiling, "it blocks their vision and gives us a safe haven."

"So they don't know we're here?" Call looked to the seemingly normal walls

"But how long will it hold?" Vriess recalled the emergency lights flickering in the hallways.

The doctor pondered for a moment, "This place and all other havens are on their own generator… so no worries about the ship's power going out… other than there would be no life support," he didn't much like the idea of that, "It should last about a year or so," he answered comfortably.

"At least our bodies will be safe," Johner sighed from the bed.

"Don't think we're going to sit around that long," Ripley stood up and walked over to the doctors, "no matter how curious I am about your little friends outside the door, I do prefer to know more about how to shut this place down."

Dr. Anton smiled, "Really? You can't tell me that you would want to know more about how to destroy this ship, then your kin that infest this place. I know that you can hear them," he leaned in closer, "I know that they lead you here… how else could have you found this ship? The route, probably secured by the Auton and friend," he indicated to Call and Vriess, "was a good start, but we've been drifting for nearly four months… but there was no ion or vapor trail to follow… the engines aren't running… nothing to show where we are… you," he pointed to her, "Are the only one that could have come here…"

Ripley shifted uncomfortably. It was true that she had heard them calling to her. She followed their sorrow filled voices to this very place. They cried and screamed… she heard and listen. They knew she was not one of them, but they didn't care. She was still willing to listen to what they had to say. She felt their pain, their loneliness, their confusion… their one desire… she felt that one voice… it took control… what was it…?

Dr. Anton smiled, "I see… you have heard him… interesting. I wonder what he thinks of you," he looked her up and down.

"Who him?" Call asked as she looked to Ripley.

"It's not important," Ripley shook those thought from her head, "What we need to know is how to blow this place to kingdom come."

"And where the money is," Johner reminded them again.

"We get it Johner," Call sighed.

"Don't get snippy with me computer," he growled.

Vriess snorted, "Don't snap at her. You didn't have to come."

"I didn't have to come… I didn't have to come!" he shouted as he sat up, but instantly fell back in pain, "DAMNIT!" he grabbed at his wounds.

"You get what you deserve," Vriess smirked.

"You're lucky that you're already a cripple," Johner threatened through his teeth.

"Please," Dr. Gwen was concerned, "You need to relax and let the drugs do their work. Move too much and the wounds will open," she looked back to the open drawers and medical supplies, "I don't know if I'll have enough supplies… we've pretty much ransacked every room on this deck… especially after…," she couldn't look to Dr. Anton.

"Oh pish posh," the doctor huffed, "Those Xenomorph enzymes should have already closed the wounds Dr. Gwen," he smiled, "Your research showed excellent results with the trials…"

"Xeno what?" Johner shot up again, but was right back down.

"What did you inject him with!?" Call stood up with an almost threatening tone.

Vriess' hand hovered over his shotgun. He wouldn't have shot them, but he wanted to make a point.

"It's an enzyme that Dr. Anton discovered when researching the Xenomorph's healing abilities," Dr. Gwen quickly explained, "It was the backbone of my medical research. And it wasn't in liquid form," she slowly picked the tube of silvery white ointment, "I was able to infuse it in a cream for topical application. It heals wounds incredibly fast… Dr. Anton is probably right…," she started to reach for Johner's chest.

He snarled at her in warning. She drew back, but then took in a deep breath and found a hint of courage. She slowly withdrew the bandages. Johner's chest was still red from the blood loss and building inflammation. The stables were holding his skin tightly and the ends puckered up. But the wounds weren't oozing or showed a sign of being fresh. The three long gashes, only made minutes ago, seemed to be a few days old.

"Would you look at that?" Vriess was surprised.

"What the fuck?" Johner wasn't sure what he was seeing.

"How… how is this possible?" Call restrained herself from reaching out.

Ripley wasn't sure what to make of it. It was extraordinary that enzymes of such deadly creatures could be used to heal. That is what Dr. Gediman… the other Gediman… had promised her… had promised why he and the others resurrected them. But she also couldn't help but feel disgusted. They had desiccated… one of her own… to find something that belong to them. They had only created life to destroy it. They snuffed them out… now they would be snuffed out…

"No need for the harsh glare," Dr. Anton smiled, "You must be so conflicted on the inside. Dr. Gediman and Dr. Wren did you no favors keeping you alive. I mean no offense of course," he quickly apologized.

Ripley straightened her face, "… how do we blow this ship?"

"Straight to business," Dr. Anton rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Ripley… is it?" Dr. Gwen approached her, "I know and understand why you… need… to destroy this ship… and I agree with that, but," she looked to floor, then back to Ripley, "There is something that I need to get before we," she indicated to her and Dr. Anton, "leave. The research that was conducted here could change lives. The chemicals and enzymes that these creatures… these Xenomorphs, have been able to heal what was thought to be impossible. The blind being able to see. Regrowth of nerves that had been destroyed long ago. Parts of the human brain waking up after being dead for years," she looked to Vriess, "Your friend could walk again with a little bit more research and time. I can't lose that," she pleaded, "If you help me retrieve my data, I will show you how to destroy the ship."

"I think that we can figure that one out on our own," Call didn't trust her.

"Blowing a ship is the easiest thing," she pointed out, "But you don't know their movements and you don't know this ship. I've been moving around here for the past two months without drawing attention. I can show where and how to move, but only if you help me."

"We can figure out that too," Call held up the motion radar.

"Oh…," Dr. Anton recognized that, "That's works great… until you realize that the wall behind you isn't what it seems," he flicked his stump at them, "You're lucky that it managed to get you down the hallway."

"We have an easier way of detecting them," Dr. Gwen pulled out what looked like to be a computer tablet.

Call reached for it, but Dr. Gwen pulled away, "Will you help me?"

"Ripley?" Call looked back to her.

She took in a deep breath and then released it through her nose. She had wanted to make this a straight forward mission. Get in, get out, the ship blows along with all of its dangerous, acid spitting passengers. But she knew that the motion detector was only useful to a certain extent. Broken pieces of memories hinted at its failure and the screaming that ensued. One of their own was already hurt, anymore would lead to failure.

Ripley slowly approached the doctor, "This research… what will you do with it?"

She looked to the walls and floor, but then found her words, "I want to help people… that's what I signed up for when I was asked to come here… My mission has never changed… how I do it… has. Please help me and I will help you."

"You'll also lead us to the money," Johner would drop it.

"Shut up Johner," Ripley was growing tired of his constant reminder.


End file.
